


A Simple Legal Matter

by 3littleowls



Series: The Detective's Antidote [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Civil Unions, Cupcakes, Drinking, Fluff without Plot, Language of Flowers, M/M, Romance, Sherlock Holmes and Bees, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, sex holiday?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3littleowls/pseuds/3littleowls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Darin tie the knot. </p><p>Almost Pure wedding fluff to balm any Season Three feels!</p><p>This is in the Empty Flat AU, so catch up on that first. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unions

_Then grudge me not my fond endeavor,_  
 _To hold you in my sight forever;_  
 _Let none, not even you, disparage_  
 _Such a valid reason for a marriage._  
 _-from "Tin Wedding Whistle", by Ogden Nash_

 

“So everything is on schedule?” John spoke into the mobile he was trying to hold with the same hand which was keeping his suit bag off the wet pavement. With his free hand, he fumbled with his keys to the door to 221b. He had had to run from the black car to the door without his umbrella up, but the rain had tapered off, so at least he wasn’t getting completely soaked.

“Everything is fine. You just get Sherlock to the hall on time,” Natalie, Darin’s sister, replied over the line.

“I will do. How is your groom holding up?”

“Better. He tried to hyperventilate twice this morning at the spa,” she laughed.

“Jesus, I thought I was nervous. Then again, I wasn’t trying to move and marry in the same week.”

“He’ll calm down, you’ll see. He’s never been good at waiting. You should have seen him when he sat for his exams. Once he threw up twice the night before, but when the time came, he breezed through them,” Natalie assured him.

“Maybe it was a bad idea to keep them apart for the day.” The key finally slipped home and John turned the knob.

“Oh no, that’s bad luck and it’s our duty to make sure they do things properly. I have to go. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Ta,” John dropped his suit on a stack of boxes in the foyer. Baker Street was in chaos. Darin had sold his flat, but the buyers had wanted immediate occupancy. This meant he had to move into Baker Street the week of his and Sherlock’s wedding, which had only been days after the contractors had finished the renovations. Boxes and paint cans littered the few spare nooks of the house, along with piles of Sherlock’s belongings, as he had been trying to make space.

“Coming through!” called a large, ruddy-faced man balancing two boxes. He was trying to squeeze out of Mrs Hudson’s door and work his way through the cluttered hallway.

“Good afternoon, Roger. Car is waiting.” John moved aside and held the door for Darin’s lab manager. John got a glance of the cakes inside as he passed.

“We almost have Angelo’s all sorted. Don’t forget to give us a shout when they are on their way.” Roger hugged the boxes carefully and wedged himself and his cargo out the door.

Mrs Hudson followed a heartbeat behind.

John greeted her with a peck on the cheek.“Oh you look lovely.” She was wearing a pretty purple dress and a new hat, and carried Sherlock’s violin case.

“Isn’t this exciting? Our Sherlock, getting married!” She beamed.

“It’s a miracle. Where is our groom?” 

She tutted. “Down in that new laboratory. You think he would stop mucking about for the day, but no. Can you make sure he ate the lunch I gave him? We don’t want him fainting at the altar!”

“Sure, Mrs Hudson.”

“Wonderful. We will see you at the restaurant! Oh!” Mrs Hudson paused, “Remind Sherlock about the wedding flowers in the refrigerator. Darin made the buttonholes and corsages himself, you know.” She proudly displayed a spray of peach rosebuds on her wrist.

“Very nice,” John smiled. “I’ll remember. See you soon!” 

Since announcing their betrothal just over a week ago, the grooms’ desires to have a casual gathering had been almost completely overruled. Mrs Hudson had started planning menus with Angelo, Natalie had hand calligraphed and personally delivered many of the invitations to the twenty-five guests, Mycroft had a fleet of black sedans at their disposal, and Roger had apparently stripped the greenhouses at Kew for flowers at the restaurant. Darin and Sherlock, distracted by setting up house, had surrendered, considering the reception a lost cause.

The one thing that remained unchanged was the appointment to sign the schedule at the Registrar’s office. It would remain small with only John and Natalie as witnesses. Natalie had insisted on separating the grooms the night before the wedding, holding out for that one tradition. Really, John saw it for what it was, a chance to spend the morning pampering her much loved brother. Sherlock of course, had refused any of John’s offers for the same, even just going for a meal together. He was holding fast that there was nothing particularly special about the day, that it was a simple legal matter they needed to attend to.

John went downstairs to find his charge. Sherlock was in his dressing gown, staring through the eyepiece of a new microscope. 

“You must be the only couple in London to register at a scientific equipment company. Nothing says romance like a matched set of his-and-his fume hoods.” John looked around; the new lab was glass and shiny chrome, and lacked much of the clutter that had invaded the rest of the house.

“I was led to believe the point was to ask for items we needed to furnish our home together,” Sherlock looked up at him, brow furrowing.

“For most of us mere mortals, that means bedsheets and china.” 

“Boring.” Sherlock peered back through his scope.

John smirked and went to the lab refrigerator. He opened it slowly, not sure if a severed head would greet him, but it was still mostly empty. He pulled out two clear clamshell containers and set them on the counter.

“Darin left us buttonholes, we can’t forget them. Huh. These are… unique.” John opened the containers and held up a purple thistle bloom wrapped with an ivy leaf.

“Appropriate, is it not, _Hamish?_ ” Sherlock dismissed John’s confused look.

“So he’s being clever. It has prickles,” John put the flower back into its box.

“Also appropriate. You can be rather prickly at times.” 

“Heh, says you. Did you look at yours?” John held up a miniature red rosebud, cupped inside a slice of a very thorny seed pod.

Sherlock stared at it for a moment, and a smile quickly flashed over his face. “It’s part of a _Datura stramonium_ seed case. It has personal meaning.” 

John raised his eyebrows, “Oh come on. Tell me.”

“It’s quite sentimental of him, I fear. Why don’t you try to deduce it?” Sherlock went back to his slide.

“Oh forbid he’s a little romantic on his wedding day. Is it your tiny little heart surrounded by thorns?” John quipped.

Sherlock snorted. “It could well be, but no. We, uh,” he paused but kept his eyes firmly fixed on his slide, “first kissed near that plant.”

“That’s adorable,” John smiled.

“Hrm.”

“Oh come on. I really hope you loosen up today. Perhaps suspend the ban on PDAs for an afternoon?” John encouraged, “I mean, you might want to give the impression to your friends and family that you do love him.”

Sherlock groaned. “This is exactly why we were trying to avoid turning this into a spectacle.”

“You thought that really was going to happen once Mrs Hudson found out? Come on, let’s get moving. We have to be there in two hours. You are going to need all that time to play with your hair.”

He slipped off the lab stool with a huff, and John laughed.

###

_We’ve arrived. We are now up to three panic attacks. -N_

John sighed and looked over at Sherlock, gazing out the car window, looking slightly bored. They could have walked there faster, the Old Town Hall was just a few blocks from Baker Street, but Mycroft insisted they take a car.

_Tell him to relax. We’re on our way. -J_

“They say rain is good luck on your wedding day.” John commented at the dark sky.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We live in London.” Sherlock scowled. “Besides, it’s clearing up. That’s why I left my coat.”

“You left your coat so not to not mar the lines of your new poncy suit,” John teased. “Are you really not nervous at all?”

“Should I be?”

John rolled his eyes. “I was, a little bit, if you remember. Darin apparently is shaking in his shoes.”

Sherlock turned to him, eyebrows scrunching up. “He is?”

John felt a bit guilty now, picking up the note of concern. “Yeah, but I’m sure he’s fine. It’s normal.”

Sherlock silently turned back to look out his window.

###

The driver pulled up to Old Marylebone Town Hall, a stately old Edwardian building, the front decorated with tall Roman columns and guarded by lion statues. John could see Darin and Natalie on the steps, waiting. 

Natalie waved; she was a retro-inspired vision in a vintage light blue dress, a fascinator decorated with daisies in her hair. John figured the flowers meant something, but he couldn’t guess what. Darin was pacing back and forth, arms folded across his chest, but he stopped when he saw his sister waving at the car.

John got out of the car, feeling for the ring box in his pocket, checking one more time. Sherlock stepped out, buttoned his jacket and sedately started up the steps. Darin dropped his arms to his sides, eyes wide. 

Sherlock stopped at the top of the landing, a few paces before Darin. Both men where riveted and took each other in for a long moment. Darin relaxed, his shoulders loosening, the stress in his face swept away. Sherlock ran his fingers over his lips and paled, as if he just realized the enormity of what he was about to do. Darin smiled up at him, trying to reflect the reassurance he felt from Sherlock’s mere presence.

They probably needed a moment. “Let’s go check them in at the reception desk, Natalie. You two catch up with us there.” John winked at Darin’s sister, who wiggled an eyebrow back. 

John opened the large wooden doors and started to look for reception. He turned to talk to Natalie, but she was no longer walking next to him. He was considering going back to see if he lost her, when he spotted her catching up to him from down the hall, a big smile on her face.

“Look.” She held the screen of her camera up to him to see a photo she had snapped. Darin and Sherlock had used one of the columns for cover to steal a little space for some solitude. The afternoon sun had worked behind them, creating a soft halo around their shoulders and hair. They were holding each other’s hands, leaning in with their foreheads together, eyes locked. The simple intimacy spoke volumes.

“That’s the picture of the day, I think,” John grinned. “Anyway, it is a good thing we got them here early. Looks like a queue at reception.”

Sherlock and Darin found them a few minutes later, both of them looking a little less overwhelmed then they had before. John noticed that while they hadn’t matched their suits, they must had planned to complement one another. Sherlock was in charcoal gray, no tie, and had a shirt that somehow matched his eyes. It appeared to be seafoam green or gray depending on how the weave reflected the light. Darin was in cobalt blue with a bold, purple tie.

Sherlock started to laugh, and pointed. “Darin, your buttonhole...deadly nightshade?”

John looked at his lapel. There was a tiny woven wreath, no bigger than a two-pound coin, attached to his jacket with a silver pin. Very small purple blooms nestled in the leaves.

“It matched the tie,” Darin insisted.

“Nerd,” Natalie poked him, playfully.

John reached their turn at the desk. They reviewed their reservation, paperwork, and the clerk checked their identification.

“Your Registrar is on her way. Go to the Yellow Marriage Room down the corridor. Congratulations,” the clerk smiled.

They proceeded down the hall to the Yellow Room, a small space aptly named, with bright yellow walls and white trim, and an ornate mantle over a central fireplace. A small mahogany table was off to the side, flanked by a couple rows of cream upholstered chairs. They sat in the first row of four chairs; John next to Sherlock, Darin with his sister. 

“Oh, here, I have something for you two,” Natalie pulled out a box from her purse and handed it to Darin. He opened it, and found a silver fountain pen inside. Sherlock plucked it from his hands, and opened the cap to inspect it.

“Montblanc. Vintage. Fourteen carat gold nib,” Sherlock handed the pen back. “Thank you.” 

“You can't just go and sign your register with anything,” She sniffled suddenly. “I’ll hold it for you until you need it.” Natalie blinked her eyes and sniffed again, and plucked a handkerchief out of her purse.

“Don’t you even dare start,” Darin scolded her gently. 

The door to the room opened, and a middle-aged woman entered with a smile. “Mr Allard and Mr Holmes?” she asked.

“Yes,” Sherlock replied.

“Excellent. I’m Mrs Brown and I will be registering your civil partnership today. Give me a moment and we can begin. ” She carried a small folio and flipped through their paperwork. 

As the minutes passed, Sherlock sat and drummed his fingers on his thigh. He shifted in his seat, and signed. “Can we just sign the paper and get this over with?” 

Darin covered his mouth with his hand to suppress a snort of laughter. 

John rolled his eyes. “Turn it off Sherlock, just for an afternoon, will you?”

The official looked up and quirked a smile. “Nervous, are we? Don’t worry, I’m almost ready.” She finally pulled out a page of fine paper and placed it on the desk. Darin swallowed audibly, and Natalie put her hand on his leg.

Mrs Brown stood before them. “There. Miss Allard and Mr Watson, you are the witnesses today? If we are not expecting any other guests, we can proceed.”

“Just us,“ John replied.

“Please, do go on,” Sherlock moaned. John elbowed him and Darin tried again to suppress a jittery giggle.

Mrs Brown shook her head and smiled kindly, and started the ceremony. 

“On behalf of the City of Westminster, I would like to welcome you on this special occasion, when Darin and Sherlock will affirm their love and publicly declare their commitment to each other.”

Next to John, Sherlock bounced his knee, unable to keep still. Darin nibbled at his bottom lip.

“Old Town Hall has been duly sanctioned according to law for the registration of Civil Partnerships. You have come to this historic site today to witness the formation of a Civil Partnership between Darin Allard and Sherlock Holmes; if any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this partnership, they should declare it now.”

John and Natalie looked over at each other for a moment, exchanged smiles, and kept silent. 

“Today marks the beginning of the rest of Darin and Sherlock’s lives together. By entering into a Civil Partnership, the bond between them will grow stronger day by day, month by month and year after year. Will the couple please stand.”

Sherlock and Darin stood, facing each other. Sherlock hesitated, unsure, and looked at the registrar. Darin held out both his hands with a reassuring smile, and Sherlock grasped them tightly.

“Are you, Darin Allard, free to lawfully form a civil partnership with Sherlock Holmes?”

“I am,” Darin confirmed.

Mrs Brown proceeded to ask Darin to repeat after her, his voice was steady and confident:

“I hereby pledge to share my life openly with you. From this moment on I ask you to be with me on our journey, to share our dreams, go forward together and to be my companion along the way.”

Sherlock’s expression softened into something John would describe as wonderment. 

“Are you, Sherlock Holmes, free to lawfully form a civil partnership with Darin Allard?”

“I am,” Sherlock answered, clearing his throat.

He held Darin’s gaze and repeated his vows, halting several times in a voice that was little more than a whisper. 

“We have come to the exchange of rings.”

John and Natalie stood, and John retrieved the box from his pocket. For good measure he waggled it in front of Sherlock, reminding him of his warning not to forget them. It broke some of the tension and Sherlock pressed his lips together, trying not to smile as he pulled out one of the gleaming bands. Darin winked at John as he was offered the box, and took the other ring. John stepped back and Darin took Sherlock’s left hand.

“'I give you this ring as a token of my affection and a sign of the promises I make to you today,” Darin slid it over his finger. 

Sherlock held up his hand, and looked at his new ring for a couple heartbeats before looking up at Darin and replying, “I thank you for your ring, and I accept it as a symbol that we are one with each other. It will always remind me of you, and I will wear it for all of my life.”

Natalie dabbed surreptitiously at her eyes.

Sherlock took Darin’s hand and slipped on his band. He paused, breathed deeply. Darin gazed at him, eyes now bright. Feeling a faint prickle in his own eyes, John looked at his shoes and pinched his nose for a moment as they recited their lines.

“We will now sign the schedule, which will bind Darin and Sherlock together by law,” Mrs Brown motioned to the document on the table and they gathered around it. Natalie passed the fountain pen to Sherlock, who signed it in quick strokes. Darin took the pen and added his own signature. John and Natalie followed suit as witnesses, while Darin and Sherlock exchanged tender smiles.

They stepped back from the table and the officiant announced, “Darin and Sherlock, it is my pleasure to tell you that you are now partners in law. You may kiss each other.”

Looking rather shyly at each other, they again took each other’s hands, leaned together and exchanged three, quick, chaste kisses on the lips. They rested forehead to forehead for a moment, needing each other’s support, both blown away.

Natalie and John clapped when they finally broke apart. Natalie, crying, hugged her brother, and even Sherlock accepted a quick embrace from John. Sherlock then took Darin’s hand and led him to the door out of the little yellow room.


	2. Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Darin’s civil union reception. John gives a toast and other fluffy merriment.

Sherlock opened the door of the Town Hall, and two black cars were waiting. He scowled when he also saw a couple of press photographers lingering around the bottom of the stairs.

“Damn public postings. It was too much to hope we would dodge the paparazzi today,” Sherlock sighed.

“Do you want to try to go round the back?” John asked.

“No. Lets just get it over with.” Sherlock dropped Darin’s hand. “Ready?”

“Yes.” 

Sherlock pushed open the door and plastered a fake smile on his face. As quickly as one could and still look dignified, he marched down the stairs past the photographers. Darin followed swiftly after and John made the excuses for the men for not posing for pictures.

John saw both of them into the car, and peered through to the driver. “Take them the long way around, make sure no one is following.”

Darin looked over at Sherlock. “Partners for five minutes, and already in the limelight.”

Sherlock snorted. “Idiots. They must have something better to take photos of.”

The car’s engine purred to life and the driver pulled away.

Sherlock’s face transformed into befuddlement. “We just did...that,” Sherlock stammered.

Darin laughed. “Yes we did.” He slid over closer to Sherlock. 

Sherlock blinked and shook his head. “You...I mean, I never thought anyone...you just...with me...”

Darin took one of Sherlock’s hands. “I think you're skipping. You okay?”

“Astounding,” Sherlock muttered, staring at Darin. 

“That sums it up,” Darin kissed Sherlock’s cheek. “No regrets?” 

“Regret? No. By no means. Never,” Sherlock repeated, verdigris eyes still wide. 

Darin’s stomach growled loudly and interrupted the moment.

Sherlock cocked his head and studied him. “You picked at your meal last night, and you were too nervous to eat today. You hid your uneaten lunch from your sister, in fact. Now your stomach is tearing itself apart and you’re regretting that decision. Driver! Take us to 44 Theobalds Road.”

“Sherlock, we have a reception to go to. I can wait a little longer.”

“Nonsense. They are not going to start without us, are they? It could be some time from when we arrive and when we eat, so we may as well stop and get something.”

“Certainly, Angelo will starve us,” Darin smirked. “But he will kill us if we stuff ourselves with pastry before the dinner.”

“Kill us? No, I’m afraid he’s not the type,” Sherlock grinned.

###

The weather had cleared up at bit, so Darin and Sherlock had their tea alfresco. Darin had torn apart one of Bea’s cupcakes before their pot had a chance to steep. 

Darin’s phone buzzed and Sherlock plucked it from his fingers. “Nope.”

“They are going to wonder where we are. We really should at least text John and tell him we’ll be late,” Darin complained around a mouthful of cake.

“The driver reported to Mycroft the moment we dismissed him. Stop worrying.” Sherlock pushed his untouched cupcake over towards Darin, who didn’t hesitate to claim it.

“I know what this is all about,” Darin teased, pointing with a frosting covered thumb. “You needed some time to absorb all this before you charged right into to a party full of people.” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “You were the nervous one.”

“I didn’t stammer through my vows,” Darin smirked.

“Sentimental rubbish,” Sherlock smiled back, and sipped his tea. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why were you so nervous?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh, I know what you are thinking. I wasn’t worried about marrying you. It’s a just big step, a lifetime milestone.” 

“Some people think it’s the most important day in their lives.” Sherlock twisted his lips.

Darin laughed. “Some do.”

“You...don’t agree.”

“I’d say the day I defended my thesis was the biggest day of my life,” Darin mumbled around a mouthful. 

Sherlock flashed him a huge smile and reached over and took back a fingerful of icing.

Darin’s phone buzzed again. Sherlock’s followed soon after.

Sherlock lifted an eyebrow.

“Fuck it. They have an open bar, and it’s my day.” Darin went for the teapot. “Can I top you off?”

###

Eventually, reality could no longer be ignored, and Sherlock hailed a taxi. Inside, they both replied to the flurry of “Where are you?” messages with their ETA.

“Well, that isn’t a surprise,” Darin muttered and slipped his mobile into his pocket, frowning.

“What?” Sherlock asked

“Dad. He is sending his regrets. He claims he had to go out of town at the last minute,” Darin sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock offered. “He’s being foolish.”

“I know. I won’t let him ruin things,” Darin assured. “I don’t just mean today. He will have to cope. You're my priority, my family.”

Sherlock stared at Darin for a moment.

“What?” Darin asked, perplexed.

Sherlock took Darin’s hand, ran his thumb thoughtfully over the wedding band. He leaned in close to his ear and admitted softly, “I do love you.”

“Sherlock,” Darin made a little soft, intake of breath. “I knew, I just wasn’t sure if you would ever actually say it.”

“Today seemed like the proper occasion.”

Darin’s eyes misted over. He cupped Sherlock’s cheek and kissed him reverently. It built slowly and sweetly, until the cabbie started to cough and mutter loudly to break them out of it.

###

When they stepped out of the taxi onto the pavement at Angelos, John was there to meet them, looking rather put out.

“You are an hour late!” John scolded.

“Oh, and I see London is still standing,” Sherlock replied, rolling his eyes.

“It’s my fault John. I hadn’t eaten much, and I was feeling a bit lightheaded. We thought we should stop and take care of it, before I started drinking,” Darin explained. 

John threw his hands in the air. “You could have sent a message!”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly, I’m sorry,” Darin apologized. “Maybe we should go in now, since everyone is waiting?”

John nodded and opened the door to Angelo’s. “Wait just a moment.”

“That was a bit of a fib,” Sherlock whispered to Darin.

“Shhh,” Darin smiled mischievously.

John peeked out the door. “Okay you two twits, get in here.”

John held the door open to Angelo’s and let them though. He then cleared his throat and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my honor to present the happy couple.”

Everyone stood and applauded, and Darin reached out and took Sherlock’s hand.

“Look at his place!” Darin exclaimed.

Angelo’s wasn’t an overly large restaurant. After a small dance floor had been cleared in the back, it didn’t leave a lot of room. So their friends had taken advantage of vertical space and designed tall arrangements made out of bare tree branches that reached almost to the ceiling. Each ‘tree’ was covered in white fairy lights, hanging clusters of flowers and blue silk ribbons. They would discover later upon closer inspection, there were a few oddities hidden in the branches. Ornaments shaped like music notes, test tubes filled with colored water, little origami dogs, sweets in the shape of skulls, and bright envelopes that held slips of paper with well wishes from the guests.

“So much for a simple dinner,” Sherlock whispered.

“Mrs Hudson has your violin, any time it gets too much and you want to play,” Darin reminded him. 

“It’s not a pacifier,” Sherlock objected.

“I know you like to perform...” Darin broke off and smiled as Sherlock’s mum approached “Violet! I’m happy to see you.”

Violet Holmes hugged Darin tightly. “I cannot tell you how thrilled I am for you both. I never thought I would live to see the day.” Violet sniffed delicately. “A wedding, and now I have another son.”

“Mother, don’t be so dramatic,” Mycroft scolded from behind her. “So you both went through with it. Felicitations on your union.” 

“Mycroft!” Violet scolded. “I know it’s difficult when you are not the center of attention, but do try not to be such a bitter pill for an afternoon.”

Violet kissed Sherlock, who Sherlock gave his mother a quick but tight embrace. He made a face at Mycroft from over her shoulder. 

“Thank you Mummy, for your gift.” 

Mycroft glared at Sherlock. “It is the bride’s family who usually pays for the wedding, after all.” 

“Mycroft, why don’t you go and see what’s on the dessert tray?” Darin snipped.

“This is going to be a long day,” Sherlock sighed, as their guests lined up to offer congratulations.

###

Sherlock and Darin had a tiny table to themselves in the center of the room, giving them a little reprieve to eat. Angelo indeed, did not starve them and prepared a several course meal of their favorites. They were served from a shared platter, which they both had no trouble cleaning off, in spite of their covert dessert indulgence beforehand. They also were well on their way to finishing their second bottle of prosecco, and by the time the sorbet and cannoli came out, they were both feeling a little giddy.

Waiters rushed to refill glasses, and John stood up from his table. “Could we have your attention, everyone.” Cutlery clinked and conversation died down. “We first would like to thank all of you for joining us today. Especially everyone who helped us pull this off at the last minute.“

“Here it comes,” Sherlock grumbled, resigned.

Natalie also stood and grinned conspiratorially at John before chiming in. “As you know, my brother and his new partner didn’t want to celebrate with a traditional reception. So John and I have decided to mix it up a bit with the speeches. I am going to say a few words about Sherlock, and John will do the same for Darin.”

John amended, “What really happened is the speech I was writing for Sherlock had had quite a lot of cursing in it, and the one she had for Darin had too many crude jokes. So we switched, just to keep things classy.” The crowd tittered. “Ladies first,” and John took his seat.

“Sherlock and I didn’t get off to a very good start,” Natalie admitted. “I was excited to meet the famous hat-detective I had read about in the papers. I should have known better, because when first met me, he told me I was ten pounds overweight and needed to reconsider my choice of handbags.” There was a mix of groans and knowing chuckles from the crowd. “He was rude, not very considerate, and more than a little pushy.” 

“I was left with the impression that my brother was making a horrible mistake getting serious with Sherlock. I was convinced Darin was going to get his heart broken, and was very concerned when he told me they were going to buy a house together.”

“It’s a good thing that Darin asked me to help redecorate their flat in Baker street, because that is when I really got to know Sherlock. Believe it or not, he was one of the easier clients I’ve had to work with. He had a very clear idea of what he wanted, but at the same time was open-minded and interested in everything I had to show him. What really struck me though, was how carefully he wanted to redo his home to make my brother comfortable. We were shaking up his whole household, but with every decision he would ask me, ‘do you think this is what Darin would like?’”

“In my profession I have learned a house is a lot more than an investment- it is a reflection of the people who live inside it. Sherlock wasn’t just making room in his home, but in his heart. Sherlock, I am now sure you will look after Darin with as much love and care as he has always looked after me. I wish you many years of joy together.”

Darin had slipped his glasses off and was pressing at the corners of his eyes. Sherlock reached under the table and squeezed his knee.

Natalie sat down and gave John the floor. John waited a moment, giving Darin time to compose himself and slip his glasses back on.

“Darin, I’m going to start by saying what everyone else here is thinking- you must be barmy to want to put up with Sherlock Holmes the rest of your days” 

“Too right!” Greg Lestrade chimed in. Everyone laughed, including Sherlock. 

“When I first met you, you were trying to pull Sherlock in the dog park. That wasn’t odd, people flirt and try to get his attention all the time. What was different is that I noticed how Sherlock was reacting to you. He seemed actually interested-in another person! When you first started dating, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wondered who you had murdered or blackmailed. At least find out you were somehow key to a mystery he was chasing. Time revealed that the only thing he was chasing was you, and the mystery he was trying to solve was the one of his own heart.”

Sherlock feigned gagging until Darin poked him.

“Darin, it’s easy for everyone in this room to see why Sherlock would choose you. You're clever, kind and immeasurably patient. Sherlock’s commitment to truth and justice would never mesh with someone who didn’t display the same dedication and passion for their own work. You don’t try to compete for Sherlock’s time and energy, and respect him as he is. If anything, from the cases we have solved since you have been together, Sherlock has been even more on his game. Your presence in his life has grounded and focused him, and allowed him to be a better Consulting Detective than he was before.”

“Sherlock and I are both rubbish at this sentimental stuff, but he is a great man, my best friend and brother of choice. It’s saying a lot that I can’t imagine a better person to be his partner than you Darin- someone who will support, excite and temper him. Mary and I are both honored you are becoming part of our lives too, and our most sincere wish is that our friendships will grow and deepen over time.” 

Darin bowed his head as a tear finally slipped free. In a rare, open display of tenderness, Sherlock very gently brushed it off Darin’s cheek with his fingertips.

John lifted his glass. “With only one more thing left to do, I would like everyone to please rise and charge their glasses. Darin and Sherlock, may today be the start of a wonderful new chapter in your lives.” 

Cheers rose from their group of friends. Sherlock and Darin gave each other a quick peck, and then stood to exchange embraces and offer thanks to John and Natalie. Someone started playing music from Angelo’s stereo system, mostly big band and other standards.

Darin grinned at his new spouse. “I’m going to go and steal your Mummy for a dance.”

Sherlock’s face lit up. “You can dance?”

“Of course he can!” Natalie laughed, “Who do you think taught him?”

“Did not!” Darin protested. He turned and waved over to Violet, who beamed happily.

Sherlock extended his hand to Natalie. “In that case, would you join me?”

Natalie let Sherlock escort her to the space designated as the dance floor, and other couples filed in to join them. When the first song ended, Sherlock asked to take Molly from Mycroft, and Mycroft cut in to dance with his mother. As he twirled her away, he flashed a sincere smile toward Darin so quickly, one could have easily missed it.

Left without a partner, Darin turned to see Mary and John nearby. Just as he was about to tap John’s shoulder and steal Mary, she gave him a tiny shove. Darin knocked shoulders with someone behind him, and turned to apologize. It was Sherlock, who was being nudged his way.

“You two haven’t even danced together yet!” Molly scolded. 

Darin and Sherlock faced each other, both properly chastised. Sherlock reached for Darin, taking the lead. Just three steps into a simple foxtrot, Darin stepped on Sherlock’s foot. Sherlock scowled, only to have Darin stumble and almost step on him again.

“What is wrong with you?” Sherlock hissed. “I just saw you dance with my mother and you were perfectly proficient.”

“I always lead!” Darin said, looking down at their feet.

Sherlock huffed. “Oh, naturally! You have a sister and went to co-ed schools. In this one circumstance, it’s fortunate I have a brother and went to public school.” Sherlock dropped his hand and exchanged positions, giving Darin the lead. 

“Really?” Darin exclaimed, laughing.

“Don’t look that far into it,” Sherlock warned.

Darin smoothly moved them around the dance floor, the problem corrected. The song changed to At Last by Etta James. Sherlock hummed softly along to the song as they swayed slowly together. Darin pulled him closer. 

Darin brushed his cheek against Sherlock’s. “I am ridiculously happy right now.”

“I would like to say I'll always endeavour to keep you that way, but I won’t. ‘Reasonably content’ seems more accurate.”

Darin snorted. “Hopeless romantic.”

“Just for you.”

When the song ended, they heard applause, and blinked around, surprised. While they had been wrapped up in each other, their friends had given them the center of the floor. They broke apart looking a little embarrassed. With small, shy smiles exchanged over shoulders, they separated to entertain their guests.

###

“No, no...see there was this fountain on campus, and Darin thought it would be funny as hell to dump soap powder in it,” Kathy told Greg. She was one of Darin’s university friends from America, and had managed to make it in to London just in time for the reception. She was leaning heavily on the bar, very close to Greg, telling tales about their school days. 

There was a line of empty shot glasses on the bar and Darin winced as Greg waved for another round. The party was slowly winding down, and the dancing had been over for some time. Sherlock had concluded by picking up his violin and playing lovely melodies of his own devising. Now, quieter background music played on the stereo as the more sober guests bid farewell and departed.

“It was your idea too,” Darin slurred. 

Kathy slapped Darin on the arm. “Oh no. It was all you. I am of course, the one who took the blame and almost got suspended.”

Darin held up the shot glass, closed his eyes and drank it. He pried his eyes back open. “I’m gonna regret that one in the morning.”

“You two don’t have a honeymoon to head off to?” Greg asked.

Sherlock chose that moment to appear. He wrapped an arm around Darin, and plucked Greg’s shot off the bar, gulping it down.

“No, we are certainly not going on a sex holiday,” Sherlock announced. “It’s pointless. We can shag at home.”

“Oi, too much information,” Greg laughed.

“Oh please, Gary. Don’t act scandalized when you plan on taking Darin’s friend back to her hotel room.”

“It’s Greg! You're doing that on purpose now!”

Kathy just smiled slyly. “You got a live one, Darin.”

Sherlock squinted at Darin. “You. You are pissed.”

Darin shrugged his shoulders. “It’s Gary’s fault. ‘Sides, you're leaning on me a bit there, yourself.”

“Greg,” Lestrade snapped indignantly.

They all laughed.

John wandered over, smiling. “Alright you two lovebirds, your car is here. Say goodnight before someone falls down.”

“G’night!” Darin parroted, and stood up from the barstool. He wobbled, and Sherlock tightened his grip.

“Shit, sorry. I really didn’t mean to get this far gone.” Darin buried his face into the side of Sherlock’s jacket.

Sherlock paused at the door. “Surely we should say goodbye to our remaining guests? That’s what you do. John?” 

John chuckled. “It’s fine, Sherlock. Most of who’s left isn’t going to remember.”

Sherlock frowned. “Still...rude…” Sherlock waved his free arm to the remainder of the guests. “Laters, one and all!”

John nudged them out the door, and one of Mycroft’s black sedans waited. John practically shoved the two inside.

“Thank you, John,” Sherlock muttered. 

“I owed you one. Have a good lie in tomorrow. Mrs Hudson and the dogs are with us tonight and the next, so you have the house to yourselves until Saturday.”

“Sex holiday!” Darin burbled from the back seat, then broke into a fit of giggles. John grinned and shut the car door.

###

Sherlock unlocked the door to Baker Street, and pulled an off-balance Darin up the stairs. Darin stumbled through the dark kitchen and walked a weaving line to the bedroom. Sherlock followed him a few minutes later. 

Sherlock folded his arms over his chest. “I thought we weren’t getting gifts to each other.”

“I lied. Jesus. Someone put rose petals on the bed.” Darin’s clothes were in a careless pile on the floor, and he was trying to slide out of his pants without falling over. 

“Focus. There is a beehive in the living room,” Sherlock pointed out. He began to disrobe, taking more care with his clothes. 

“It’s not like there are bees in it. It’s for next season. For the roof.” Darin fell back on the bed with a bounce, sending the rose petals drifting. “The api..apparitor...no...damn I’m drunk...beekeeper at Kew has some bees for you then. Big, fluffy yellow and black types,” Darin waved his arms around towards the ceiling, twisting his fingers in little circles and made buzzing sounds. “Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do. I don’t have a thing for you, though,” Sherlock frowned. 

“‘S’right.”

Sherlock shook as many petals as he could off the duvet. “Rose petals? Why?”

“Dunno. Supposed to be romantic. They smell nice,” Darin replied foggily. “For the sex holiday.”

Sherlock walked out of the bedroom and came back with a glass of water. He set it on Darin’s side table. “You will want to drink that.”

“Are things really spinning?”

Sherlock turned off the light and slid between the sheets. Darin kicked and wiggled until he was under the covers, too. They nestled in, Darin on his back and Sherlock on his side, his head pillowed on Darin’s chest.

“I’m thinking we might start the sex holiday tomorrow,” Darin yawned.

Sherlock hummed. “Is it bad luck if we don’t consummate our marriage or some drivel?”

Darin giggled. “I think it’s too late, isn’t? It’s not like we haven’t been having sex for months and months and...I’m not sure if I can even get it up. No offense.” Sherlock chuckled, and threw an arm around Darin’s waist.“That Gary…Greg is a bastard. I think he tried to get me drunk to get back at you for something.” 

“I can’t imagine what. You know, the room might be spinning,” Sherlock yawned. “We can cement the deal tomorrow. We’ll still be married. ” 

Darin kissed the top of Sherlock’s head. “That’s a nice thought.”

“Hmmm. You live here now, too. It can be sex holiday any time.”

“I gotta write that down.”

Both men fell quiet, and started to drift off to sleep. 

“Sherlock? Say it again.”

“Mmmm? Oh. All right, since I didn’t get you a gift. I love you.”

Darin sighed contentedly, and they fell asleep to the soft scent of crisp linen and rose petals.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, thanks to Alutiv, Anarfea and Gowerstreet for beta and Brit-picking.
> 
>  
> 
> [Old Marylebone Town Hall](http://www.travelsignposts.com/destination/var/albums/EnglandWales/London-Home-of-the-2012-Olympics/Marylebone-%26-Baker-Street/Old-Marylebone-Town-Hall_AJP_2358-414517971.jpg?m=1367129065) and [ The Yellow Room](http://s3-media1.ak.yelpcdn.com/bphoto/NXA7ZR8WmTQDHRgGdjV6fQ/l.jpg)
> 
> Since I have never had the honor of attending a UK civil union ceremony, the vows and ceremony order in this fic has been heavily borrowed from [here](http://www.haringey.gov.uk/index/community_and_leisure/bdm/marriages-civil-partnerships/personalising_your_ceremony/ceremony_scripts.htm) and [here](http://www.rbkc.gov.uk/communityandlocallife/registerservices/organisingacivilpartnership/yourcivilpartnershipvows.aspx).


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